


Welcome to the Family

by Katyakora



Series: Killerwave Week [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, F/M, KillerWaveWeek2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 10:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7098631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katyakora/pseuds/Katyakora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a meeting between rival mobs, assassin Caitlin Snow makes the acquaintance of enforcer Mick Rory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to the Family

**Author's Note:**

> For KillerWave Week 1 Day 1- Mob/Criminal AU
> 
> Never participated in a ship week before, thought I'd give it a shot.

They called her Killer Frost. An apt moniker, for Caitlin Snow was as cold and deadly as the name implied. Once upon a time, she’d had a promising career as a doctor, but that had gone down the drain the night her husband died. These days, she was personal assassin and bodyguard to Joe West, head of one of the oldest and most established crime families in Central City. She’d had to do a lot of unpleasant things while under Joe’s employ, but this definitely fell into the top ten.

 

A new faction had made a name for themselves recently, earning enough weight and credibility to garner Joe’s attention. A ragtag group of misfits calling themselves the Rogues, led by Leonard and Lisa Snart, children of a notorious kingpin who’d held a chunk of the Central scene until he lost it all in the eighties. With their father dead and buried, it seemed the Snart siblings were determined to reclaim Central for themselves, and they had an annoying habit of changing the rules of engagement.

 

This meeting, for example. They’d reached out when it became clear that their territory was starting to infringe on Joe’s. They respected Joe, and were looking to negotiate a truce, if not an outright alliance. Smart enough not to negotiate on Joe’s home turf and not dumb enough to insist he enter theirs, the meeting was being held in a no-man’s-land, of sorts. A quiet restaurant, smack bang between the territories, run by an ancient chinese woman more terrifying than any mob boss. Both parties brought a small number of trusted members for protection, but every table in the room was still occupied by criminals, largely because they’d been split up. A member from each gang at each table, so no one had an advantage.

 

Which is how Caitlin found herself seated across from Mick Rory, the Snart’s right hand man and known arsonist and pyromaniac. He was a mountain of a man, possessing what Cisco referred to as resting-murder-face. He’d looked her up and down when they first sat, huffed and turned his gaze to their bosses, apparently dismissing her. Caitlin didn’t take it personally, being dismissed by big, dumb enforcers was part of what made her dangerous. That and two years of training under a former member of the League of Assassins coupled with an intimate knowledge of human biology and pressure points. She was more than happy to ignore him in turn, until he slipped a shiny silver lighter out of his pocket.

 

“Don’t even think about it,” she snapped coldly.

 

“Excuse me?” he asked with a dangerous glint in his eyes, clearly affronted by the audacity of her command. Caitlin leveled him with an intense, unnerving stare that had made lesser men grovel.

 

“You set anything on fire and old Mrs May will kill you. You light up a cigarette and  _ I’ll  _ kill you.” Oddly enough, her icy warning made him grin, a spark of intrigue behind his eyes.

 

“I’d like to see you try.” His deep, husky rumble of a voice made the challenge sound almost sultry.

 

“I could have you twitching on the floor in eight seconds,” she responded in a bored tone, one eye on the negotiations.

 

“Oh yeah?” he snorted. “I could break you in half with one hand,” he scoffed. 

 

“You’d have to catch me first.”

 

“I can keep up.” The heat in his tone was unmistakable now. She gave him her full attention, realising he’d leaned closer over the table, propped up by one solid arm that stretched the fabric of his shirt alarmingly. Her eyes flicked over the flex of his bicep, the smirk on his lips and the spark in his clear blue eyes. Her lips parted a little in surprise. Holy shit, he was flirting with her.

 

“Are you actually flirting with me right now?” She blurted out the demand, unexpectedly flustered by the realisation. He tilted his head, clearly studying her.

 

“You seem pretty confident you can take me and West made sure we got paired together. I know he knows what I’m capable of. Makes me wonder just what you’re capable of.” Apparently he had either elected to ignore her question or believed that answered it.

 

“What, you get turned on by women who can kick your ass?” she sneered.

 

“I’d heard you were a cold bitch, Frost, but you got fire in you. I like that.” He emphasised the sentiment with a smile that Caitlin hated for being so boyishly charming.

 

“Somebody’s asking to get burned,” she hissed. Clearly, that had been the wrong, or maybe right, thing to say.

 

“Oh, if only,” he purred, now looking mesmerised. The whole situation had Caitlin somewhat taken aback. Most people who knew her reputation weren’t exactly jumping at the chance to hit on her. Those her did were quickly put off by her frosty reception. Yet everything she said seemed to simply compound Mick’s interest. She scowled at him.

 

“I’m not in the mood to deal with some horny jackass who thinks he can ‘melt the ice queen’,” she stated coldly. He frowned for the first time since their conversation began.

 

“Shitheads seriously do that?” he asked.

 

“You said it yourself; I have a reputation,” she pointed out with a quirked brow.

 

“Yeah, but you’re not a fucking trophy.” The vehemence in his voice and genuine disgust at the concept was a surprise. “Assholes should be lining up to kiss your fucking feet, not treating you like a boss battle!”

 

“Well, that’s...refreshing,” she floundered, a little stunned by his anger on her behalf.

 

“Fucking shouldn’t b-” he began, but a voice cut him off.

 

“Mick!” Leonard snapped tersely. “Flirt on your own time.” Caitlin looked around to see that all attention was on her table, and likely had been for a while. She couldn’t remember when exactly they’d dropped the hushed tones, but Mick’s volume had risen steadily with his indignation.

 

“Whatever you say. Sorry, Boss,” Mick replied, appearing entirely unfazed at being reprimanded in front of a rival crew. Caitlin scowled and resolutely went back to ignoring him, actually doing her job and scoping out the room. Her scowl slipped into a smirk when she saw the way Cisco, Barry and Linda were glaring daggers at Mick.

 

A server caught her eye, weaving his way through the tables, topping up every water jug, even those that hadn’t been touched. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him, the way he moved, patiently observing until she was sure. She looked back at Mick to find that he had been watching her case the room.

 

“Your boss, Leonard,” she began lowly, one eye still following the server’s movements. “He had a meeting with the Darbinyan’s last week, didn’t he?”

 

“You heard about that?” he queried, matching her hushed tone. He didn’t sound happy to hear it.

 

“Everybody heard about that,” she scoffed dismissively. “He must have  _ really _ pissed them off.”

 

“What makes you say that?” he asked cautiously, but she could see from the shift of his eyes and weight that he’d noticed the same thing she had.

 

“Because they’re willing to risk a war with us to get to him,” she stated calmly.

 

The server walked within reach of their table and her hand snaked out, catching his wrist in a bruising grip, her nails pressing nerves that locked his fingers around the jug handle. Her other hand jabbed at two spots between his ribs harshly in quick succession, sending him to his knees, gasping in pain. Mick decided to lend a hand, wrapping a meaty fist around the servers neck as Caitlin brought the water jug close to her nose.

 

“Really?” she mocked in a heavily disappointed tone. “You thought you could get away with poison around  _ me _ ?”

 

Her attack had spurred every criminal in the room to their feet, hands on their weapons. This proved to be prudent when, at the discovery of the poisoner, half the staff pulled out weapons and began firing, more of their men pouring in from every exit. Simultaneously, Cisco tossed a smoke bomb as the Rogue’s engineer, Ray, tossed a device in the air that seemed to magnetically draw all bullets to it. The Rogue’s use of specialised weaponry suddenly made a lot more sense. In the smoke and the chaos, Caitlin found herself back to back with Mick, fighting their way towards their bosses.

 

Caitlin was having the time of her life. She’d become an assassin because the training had been a welcome distraction from her grief, teaching her to lock away all the pain and emotion. It made her cold and distant, she knew, the warmth of her past self only brought out by the trust and companionship of her friends. She could never say whether she enjoyed what she did or not, because that implied feeling something while she did it. Delivering pain and death were just her job. But today, she could feel the warmth of Mick Rory and his famous gun at her back, could here his raucous, delighted laughter as foe after foe fell before them. She saw out of the corner of her eye when he stopped shooting to watch her, awe in his face as she took down her opponents with nothing but jabs, pinches and pointed kicks. His warmth was almost infectious, his violent joy inspiring. To her great surprise, there was a grin on her lips as she fought for the lives of everyone she cared about.

 

She tripped up a foe going for Mick and broke his arm. He shattered the jaw of the man who went for her while she did it. Around them, the West crew and the Rogues all fought in tandem, a deadly combination of talents that ground their opponents into the dust. They never stood a chance. 

 

Once the smoke cleared, they all stood, bloody and bruised but victorious. Joe looked around the demolished restaurant at all the bodies.

 

“Fuck this. Let’s go to Saints & Sinners,” he announced. “I need a drink.” He looked to Leonard Snart, who was wrapping a scrap of his jacket around his arm, having been slashed coming to Iris’ defense. “Tell me you got a decent whiskey in that place.”

 

“After today, I’d be willing to bring out the bottle I keep in my office for special occasions,” Leonard replied by way of confirmation. 

 

“Tony, make sure this mess gets cleared up,” Iris ordered, helping Leonard finish tying his makeshift bandage, much to the Rogue boss’s surprise.

 

“Mardon, give him a hand,” Lisa added. 

 

As both groups headed off to the new location, Mick stopped in front of Caitlin.

 

“Hey, will you let me buy you a drink?” he asked. Caitlin bit her lip, making a show of contemplating. She thought about how it had felt fighting beside him, of how angry he’d been that anyone treated her with anything less than respect.

 

“Sure,” she said finally, a flirtatious smile on her lips. “I think you’ve earned at least one drink.”

 

A few days later, CCPD began recieving intel that suggested the Rogues and the West gang had formed an alliance. When this was confirmed a week later by photos of each gang’s deadliest member out on a date together, Captain Singh resigned.


End file.
